I hope you make it (to the day you realize you're a masterpiece)
by The Readers Muse
Summary: He didn't consider himself to be a particularly brave or selfless individual. In fact, truth be told, he was far likely to fall under the purview of a coward.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead. Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.

 **Authors Note #1:** Loosely based on the some filming spoilers that mention Eugene and Abraham being seen in an alley together. Naturally my brain went right to the angsty place.

 **Warnings:** adult language, adult themes, drama, angst, family feels, character death.

 **I hope you make it (to the day you realize you're a masterpiece)**

He didn't consider himself to be a particularly brave or selfless individual.

In fact, truth be told, he was far likely to fall under the purview of a coward.

He was under no qualms about that and nor did he let it particularly upset him either.

By far it was an exceedingly comfortable category to inhabit. Requiring him to make little in the realm of heroics or strenuous physical activity. What was expected of him was notably different than what was expected of the others. He was second – maybe even third string. Using his smarts to contribute to the betterment of the whole. It was a niche that hadn't come to fruition until they'd made it to Alexandria. When there was a need for something more than a simple hand to mouth type of survival structure.

But it wasn't for everyone.

Self-realization could be an unsettling subject for some. He'd watched the others wrestle with it nearly every day. People like Sasha, after the deaths of Bob and her brother. People like Noah, who'd buried those dog collars in that overgrown garden plot when he figured no one was looking. A quiet memorial to how much things had changed. How desperate they'd been. How close they'd been to losing what little they had left. _Each other_.

He still didn't know what would have happened if Aaron and Eric hadn't sought them out – recruited them. Seen something worth saving. He didn't know where _he'd_ be. All he did was that having Alexandria had changed things in a way he hadn't expected. The scales of fortune had been flipped and suddenly it was _his_ expertise that was demanded. His skills. His opinions. Things they'd taken for granted before, plumbing and power and natural gas connections all needed to be put together and maintained.

And somewhere along the line he'd forgotten his own rules.

 _Forgotten his place in the scheme of things._

Because somehow he'd gotten it into his head to dig in his heels about the whole thing.

Alexandria, the others, even the friends they'd made, had become something more.

Something worth protecting.

 _Something worth dying for._

* * *

The point was, he was still a coward, and he'd made his peace with that.

It was what had kept him alive.

 _Fed._

 _Watered._

 _Rested._

And eventually saw him settled and surrounded by people he'd come to call friends.

 _Family._

So, in all honestly, that was why he was understandably confused when he realized he felt oddly rock steady. Finding a strange sort of strength in the unfamiliar passive aggressive violence that was humming like a live wire underneath his skin. Giving him a sense of clarity he'd never experienced before as he looked up into the barrel of an unfamiliar gun in an unfamiliar alley and decided, in that one critical, terrifying moment that he'd had enough.

Sweat and blood splatter streamed sluggishly down the trickle-trails of old salt tracks as he held Abraham's body close to this chest. Refusing to look at the neat little hole that had blossomed through his friend's right eye when the last of the walkers had dropped only a few feet from them. Breathing that last moment in as the gunman laughed and kicked his empty Glock away. Peacocking around in a close looping circle as he blinked it all away. Feeling his mouth harden into an unforgiving line as Abraham's blood soaked quietly into his clothes - smearing across the pale skin of his thighs as a handful of people congratulated themselves from the rooftops overhead. Reminding him of what'd happened only minutes before, when they'd been back to back with walkers streaming down both sides of the alley. Showing him, in no uncertain terms that this had been constructed – deliberate – _planned_. They'd been surrounded long before the walkers had been funneled towards them. Trying to get them to waste all their ammunition for purposes unknown.

"Any last words?" the man cracked, spitting a mouthful of chew to the side as at least half a dozen fingers tightened around their respective triggers. Body eclipsing the sun for a long, ageless moment before the man shifted. The weak morning rays turning his long, greying blond hair into burnished gold as he caught the man's stare and held it like an unvoiced threat.

"I believe I speak for the both of us when I say, without reservation, _go to hell_ ," he returned, breathing in the crispness of the air and the sweet lilt of Abraham's red as the man's expression soured. Leaving him with the distinct impression that he'd _wanted_ him to beg. That there was something that both he and Abraham had robbed him of when they'd refused to-

He never heard the gunshot.

He had a feeling Abraham might have disagreed, but for him, that alone was a relief.

* * *

 **A/N #2:** Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. - This story is now complete.


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